


cake dish

by ladydawn



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9557531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydawn/pseuds/ladydawn
Summary: Doctor Sung hasn't done his dishes. Havve takes notice.





	

Havve sat in the kitchen, which meant no one else was going to go in until he was out of there for at least ten minutes. He sat at the island, in the middle seat, his fleshy hands folded in front of him.

His eyes were on the dishes. It wasn’t his turn. Nor was it Phobos’s or the Commander’s.

From the other room, the yellow one’s voice carried. “Nah, man!” He stretched the first word out, exaggerated it. So much of him was in the first place. “You’re so OP.”

They were playing some sports game. Earth sports.

The Commander laughed. “Having hand-eye coordination isn’t OP,” he replied.

Very true.

Why play a game virtually when you can actually play it?

Havve wanted to laser the dishes but he tried that once before and everyone got mad at him. But if they were broken Doctor Sung could no longer procrastinate washing them.

Lord Phobos had made a butternut squash bake the night prior. Delicious, but Havve recoiled at the thought of all the filth attaching itself to the pans and plates. No matter how much he insisted (stared down) they rinse, the Commander had a tendency to just toss his dishes in the sink.

Havve rose from his spot. He walked around the island to the refrigerator. He grabbed milk, eggs, butter. From the pantry he grabbed flour, baking powder, vanilla, sugar, salt. He set the oven. He grabbed two bowls.

He began to mix the ingredients. Lord Phobos showed him once how to make this. That’s all he’d needed in order to put it together perfectly every time. A simple white cake.

Havve had little memory of his time before being Havve as TWRP knew him, but he remembered his mechanical hands, and how it might have helped him mix all the ingredients of this cake.

It didn’t matter anymore. He was done, anyway. He put the pans in the oven and waited.

He sat in his spot at the island and continued to stare at the dishes.

hey bro.

HELLO.

Lord Phobos had walked in, dressed for Earth gardening. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

what’re you baking?

A CAKE.

what kind?

THE WHITE ONE.

nice. what’s the occasion?

I’M GOING TO BRIBE THE DOCTOR. HE NEEDS TO DO HIS CHORES.

oh. so he still hasn’t done the dishes, i see.

OBVIOUSLY.

obviously.

Lord Phobos gave him a nod and retreated into the backyard once more.

Havve stared at the dishes.

Lord Phobos popped his head into the house.

don’t blow them up.

NO PROMISES.

He felt Lord Phobos roll his eyes and then leave again. Havve stared at the dishes, gripping his hands at different intensities now, until the timer rang and he tested the cakes.

Perfect. Perfect every time.

He let them cool.

Doctor Sung’s and the Commander’s voices kept yelling out at different volumes. Something about a return, a kick, some sort of zone that wasn’t theirs but the Red Zone. Doctor Sung yelling about the Commander being too good at this game.

Havve stood staring at the cakes, as if he could intimidate them into cooling quicker. He grabbed the frosting from the pantry and stood some more, trying to suppress the urge to go into the living room and physically pick up Doctor Sung and place him in front of the dishes. It would be so easy, too.

Instead he put the cakes on a serving platter, frosted the top of one cake, and meticulously placed the other on top. He frosted along the sides. He mixed some yellow frosting with white frosting to create a pale yellow that he piped along the top cake’s perimeter, and along the base.

Taking a smaller piping nozzle, he wrote a message on top of the cake in all capital letters. He made quick work of cleaning his area, then grabbed the platter and crossed to the living room.

“Oh, hey, buddy,” Doctor Sung said in that offhanded way he did while he was playing a video game.

“Hey man,” the Commander said.

HELLO GUYS.

He moved to the front of the television and placed the cake in front of Doctor Sung.

“Aw, thanks! It looks go - oh,” he said.

YEAH.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

YEAH.

The Commander took one look at the cake and laughed.

“Take my controller. I’ll do them right away.” Doctor Sung handed Havve the controller, took the cake platter, and walked to the kitchen.

“‘DO THE GODDAMN DISHES,’” the Commander quoted, still laughing.

I WAS THIS CLOSE TO DESTROYING THEM.

“How close?” he asked.

THIS CLOSE. Havve held up his hand, almost no detectable space between his fingers.

The Commander laughed as dishes clanged in the other room.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm still trying to figure out that middle area of writing havve (between meme bot and killing machine bot)  
> this was something.  
> thanks.


End file.
